I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his balls? 'No!' says the man in Washington, 'balls belongs to the poor.' 'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'your balls belong to God.' 'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'balls belongs to everyone.' I rejected those answers; I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture. A city where the balls would not fear the censor; where the balls would not be bound by petty morality; where the balls would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your balls, Rapture can become your city as well.